


A Fork In Time's River

by MistyF



Series: A Blizzard of Silver [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Lots of Angst, Time Travel, i swear I can write a three houses fic without Dorothea in it, war-like imagery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:08:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22062319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistyF/pseuds/MistyF
Summary: In which a chance encounter with Rhea changed everything.
Series: A Blizzard of Silver [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1604956
Comments: 6
Kudos: 29





	A Fork In Time's River

**Author's Note:**

> Optional Reading: madocallie's [weighed and measured inside](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20693411) if you want to get a feeling for what I am referencing with regards to Solon's exams.

Edelgard always ached after Solon’s dastardly exams.

There was no lingering pain—there was never any pain thanks to the Adrestian mages working for her uncle—but magic could not heal her memory. The spells did not stop her from remembering every cut through her skin and each tug at her tendons. She had no idea why they had to continue to flay her alive on a regular basis when she had long since gained mastery over the mighty Crest of Flames. The crest of the goddess herself. 

The overwhelming power which had been forced upon her was burning up her life, stealing years from her future, but that fire had forged her. She had—in spite of them—become the weapon they wanted.

She was strong like they wanted—almost freakishly so. Axes which took her father’s soldiers both hands to lift weighed nothing to her now. She could throw a full-sized axe the way most would a hatchet. Armor that weighed almost as much as she did was no more strain on her than any of her courtly attire.

She was tough like they wanted—her fortitude beyond comprehension. After falling from a pegasus, she had watched a half-dozen broken bones reknit even before the mages could arrive. While training, exhaustion was gone as soon as it had come. She had not been sick for as long as she could remember.

Surely, then, her mind was just as resilient. After all, nothing she encountered in her day-to-day life was moving enough to affect her emotional state. Her routine torture did not cause her stoic mask to shift.

Despite all of this power, she was still bound. She always felt Thales’ hands around her neck—and there was never a moment when she was not looking for an opening. She would never forgive her uncle or his traitorous allies for what transpired in the dungeons below the imperial palace. All she needed was the smallest gap in his plan, his sprawling preparations, and she would exploit it to put her dagger through his throat. 

Compared to that roaring determination, that defiance, everything else—fear, love, curiosity, as so forth—was no more than the distant din of people at the market beyond the palace grounds. That single emotion flowed, unchallenged, through her veins like mountain ice at the edge of spring. How long would it be before spring reached its zenith and all of that melted to wash her away? How much longer could she endure?

Edelgard shook her head to chase away those thoughts. Consuming as they were, she wanted to be present in the moment. The experience of Ms. Arnault singing her heart out was one of the few pleasures she allowed herself. Dorothea’s voice was so melancholy, and yet, optimistic. It gave Edelgard a hope that, eventually, she could achieve her goals.

The moment was so engrossing she did not react upon noticing someone had joined her in the imperial box. She figured it was Hubert anyway, few others were brave enough to come near her in private.

“What a wonderful voice,” spoke the visitor and, for a brief heart-stopping second, Edelgard dared to believe her mother had somehow returned. Air rushed into her as she turned, only to choke her as she realized her mistake. The woman who had joined her, with her brilliant green hair and blue shrug over a seamless white gown, was a complete stranger.

“She truly  _ is _ a genius of her age,” the woman continued, her voice low, but still audible over the orchestra. Much of her face was hidden behind an opened fan. Her odd hair, which fell past her shoulders seemed to glow in the dimmed light. “Yes, Manuela was right to take an interest in her.”

“Who?—Identify yourself!” Edelgard commanded as loud as she dared, getting to her feet so that she was facing the intruder. Where was Hubert? “What are you doing in the imperial box?”

“Oh, dear, sweet, Edelgard," the woman said, clapping her fan closed and regarding the imperial princess with golden eyes. "This box was mine long before you were born.”

“How is that possible?” Why had she left her dagger in the coat check? Why were her scars starting to hurt as they had never before? Was it… was it because of the crest? 

“How is  _ what _ possible, dear?” the woman asked in her haunting voice. She smiled, revealing pointed, inhuman teeth. “This being my box, or did you have something else to ask of me?”

How was Seiros here? Was this a pre-emptive attack? 

“You being The Immaculate One. It must be impossible. She has not been seen in more than two generations. Not since—” Edelgard clamped her mouth shut and felt her face heating up. There was no reason she would have known about her uncle’s attempt to slay the beast who took on human form. The longer she stood there, the more body-wide aches sapped her attention. The sensation of throbbing pressure in her chest was making the room spin. 

She had to escape!

“Not since my mother’s enemies tried to slay me, yes? That was what you were going to say, weren’t you, Edelgard?”

Edelgard caught the railing of the box as an unusual wave of weakness crashed over her. It had been minutes, now, since Seiros arrived. Surely someone—

“Are you expecting anyone, little one?” Seiros said as if she were reading Edelgard’s mind. “Because I wouldn’t anticipate anyone’s arrival until after I am long gone.”

“What… what do you want?”

“A truce—with you, specifically.” Seiros rose to her feet. By the goddess, she was huge—two whole heads taller at least—and her flowing gown only exaggerated the difference.

“I know what they are doing to you, Edelgard,” she continued, tasking a step closer. “I know what they  _ have _ done. It is more of the same fear-driven, short-sighted dreck they have tried to wield as an anathema against me for nearly a millennium.”

This was a trap. Her uncle. That was why this hurt. He was attacking her. There was no way that—

“You’re thinking there’s no way I would come,  _ personally _ , to speak to you? I can see it on your face. Dear, sweet, Edelgard, they think you a weapon which can kill a god. To them, you are everything.”

“So that’s it then?” Edelgard said through gritted teeth. Her limbs tingled like they were asleep. Her heart was racing from the pain. “My life is to end here? Am I to be another story shredded by the dragon who works to ensure her power is unquestioned?”

“Heavens, no,” Seiros said, putting a hand to her chest. Her expression brightened and then darkened again in the span of a breath. She fixed Edelgard with a glare, her golden eyes glowing. “I intend to take everything from them the way they took everything from me.”

“What…? What does that even mean?”

“I told you.” Seiros’ hand moved from her chest to her hip. She clicked her tongue. “I am looking for an alliance and you need to be alive for that.” She offered her other hand and flashed that unnerving smile again. “Come with me, little one. Together, we will wreak vengeance on those who have wronged us.”

Edelgard glanced at Seiros’ hand and then back to her face. The music accompanying Dorothea stopped, allowing the songstress to shine as her voice alone filled the hall. So, too, was Edelgard alone with just her will to rely on. “And then… and then you’ll kill me, too, right? So that your secret is protected?”

“Perhaps, but my sword is in your future either way at that point,” Seiros countered. “Why not make a difference in the meantime?”

“I  _ will _ make a difference!" Edelgard hissed, slapping Seiros' hand aside. Every ounce of her indignation flooded her body. The body-wracking pain faded as the Crest of Flames began to burn instead. She stepped forward and poked the immortal in her chest. Around them, the opera’s music rose to a crescendo to match Dorothea’s long-held note. "I will tear down everything you have built to calcify humanity so that they continue to worship you. I will free us all from your control.”

Seiros just smiled down at her. It was the kind of smile one aimed at a petulant child. So, it was true, then. The secret dragon thought herself above pretty humans. This was all just some idle game for her. Edelgard saw white as she pulled on the power of her cursed blessings. Power surged from her head and her heart into arms. Her pointed finger became a fist and that little shift was enough to knock Seiros back a pace. Edelgard’s followup swing, with all of her weight behind it, would have sent anyone else flying from the box. All it did was make the smug pretender slide backward, the rug bunching under her feet.

Seiros had the gall to laugh after taking the blow. That same pitying expression remained on her inhumanly beautiful face. "Is that all the god-killer has to offer? That little tap?”

“Why you—!” Edelgard jumped towards her foe, but the dragon hit her with the slightest of backhanded slaps. The tiny hit knocked the princess aside and to the floor. 

Edelgard scrambled to her feet, but the weight of Seiros’ foot pressed down on her. So this was the true weight of her burden. Everything she had lost in exchange for a strength she had never asked for... It hadn’t been enough.

“Do you understand now, little one? Do you comprehend how outmatched you are?”

Edelgard cursed and Seiros pushed down a little more. She felt a rib crack against the polished wood. 

“I don’t want to kill you, Edelgard, but if you cannot be reasoned with, well, I have no choice at this point.”

“Fine,” Edelgard spat, her body relaxing. “I will consider your terms.”

“Good.” The pressure of her back withdrew. Between one breath and the next, the break in Edelgard’s rib cage healed. Seiros picked up Edelgard by the back of her collar like she were a kitten and held the princess so they were face to face. “I believe your highness will find them... agreeable.” 

Seiros dropped Edelgard back in her seat and sat down next to her again. The hidden beast painted a picture for the future empress as the opera’s second act began. Edelgard would attend the Officer’s Academy, just as her uncle had intended, but Edelgard would feed him bad information. “But you will tell me— _ now _ —who, among my staff, have been compromised.”

She bore no love for Solon, and she relished ruining his deception. Jeritza had joined the staff by now, but he was her pawn—her additional security measure—and not her uncle’s. He would not act without her directive and she saw no need to show that particular card just yet.

“Just Thomas. He is the only one within Garreg Mach loyal to my uncle.”

“Excellent, I will have Catherine deal with him when I return. Now, onto other matters...”

As the conversation continued, as princess and dragon exchanged demands, Edelgard felt a deepening sense of uneasy comfort. There was something about how Seiros was treating her that was new. It was not the deference she experienced from those around her in the palace. It was not the feeling of ownership she got from her uncle and his allies. It was… respect. Weird as it was, Seiros was treating her like an actual person. Not some idea. Not some object. A person.

The Immaculate One was talking about how Edelgard would become the leader of Black Eagle house since the current head would graduate this year, but Edelgard could barely comprehend. This was it, the moment of crossing paths. She had expected to destroy her uncle—No, Thales—after Seiros but, here she was, plotting her freedom.

Heat was building in her chest. Her eyes were starting to sting. The ice in her veins began to crackle.

Was she crying? Why… Why did she feel like this? She hadn’t even cried for her siblings, but she… she was…

Seiros’ arm was around her shoulder. The dragon’s other hand was stroking her hair. She was a monster, a fiend, the embodiment of oppression! How could she be so comforting as she whispered things would be okay? Why was the sound of her heartbeat so relaxing? Hugged for the first time since her ordeal, Edelgard was tumbling in the torrent of emotions she had forgotten.

Just when it felt like she was going to break, her heart and Seiros’ beat as one. The crest of flames ignited. All of a sudden, Edelgard was standing in the Red Canyon, except it was not rock and dust that surrounded her, but bodies. Everywhere she looked, people lay slaughtered, butchered like animals. The air was heavy and silent as if nature itself was mourning what had happened.

Then she heard the cries. It took her a few harrowing moments to approach where they were coming from, but the bend she was following opened up into a wide box canyon. Here, too, the signs of a one-sided conflict were evident—but there was someone yet alive. Someone kneeling in a square off to the side of the avenue.

It was, much to Edelgard’s surprise, Serios who was grieving. She held an unmoving child in her arms. Blood stained her from head to toe. Edelgard stumbled and Seiros looked up, no doubt sure that the perpetrators of this atrocity had returned.

“How is this possible?” Her accent was similar to what Edelgard expected, but she could feel something different in the inflections. “Your blood is of my blood—and my mother’s, too, somehow—but I do not recognize… You’re with  _ them _ , then? Another usurper come to rob corpses of their last dignity.”

“I don’t understand—I’m not  _ with _ anyone.”

The furious dragon-woman did not hear her. She was on her feet. A sword jumped to her outstretched hand and she stalked towards Edelgard with murder in her eyes.

This was a dream, a vision—it wasn’t real. Despite the cloying smell of decay and the sting of chill desert wind, she was just seeing something. It was only thanks to her reflexes that she managed to side step at the last second when the blade’s steel cut into her arm. The jolt of pain made the world spin, and when it stopped, she was laying with her head in Seiros’ lap.

“I understand now,” Edelgard said, reaching up. The immortal’s face looked the same now as it did then. The grief was nowhere near as extreme, but it was still there, lingering at the corners of her eyes. “Well, I know more now, at least.”

“But you see what I am fighting for. Have been for generations.”

“I do,” Edelgard began as she got to her feet. “But I still cannot abide how much control you have exerted—”

“Control I will relinquish once  _ they _ are dealt with. I will happily retire once my vengeance is complete. I might even leave the church to you and your ideals, princess.”

“So,” she said, offering her hand again. “Do we have an accord?”

* * *

Sothis grinned as her little gambit paid off. Byleth's idea had worked, and now it was just a matter of time...

**Author's Note:**

> This is, ostensibly, part of my post-Snow/Wind time-travel AU where Fyleth, the last one alive from the war, divine pulses back to the night she met Edelgard, Claude, and Dimitri to try and save everyone, only to find herself in bed with what seems to be her brother. Because Sothis exists in all times at once, Enlightened Fyleth coming back in time does some... weird things to the once-sleeping goddess and this is one example.


End file.
